The canal, this one, was dug at the turn of the century. Beneath the @3fondamenta@1 are the logs and mud of an incredible handshake. No sharp shadows are left. Buildings, dynamic yet so elusive they might be illusions, in winter light. Space unnatural? Over on the mainland, at Mestre, a redundant green wind, high whipping dresses against things. Cemented drain carries water on down toward the library but not quite that far. Used with the permission of Copper Canyon Press, P.O. Box 271, Port Townsend, WA 98368-0271, www.cc.press.org | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BATTLE OF CHARLESTON HARBOR by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE THE FOUNTAIN by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL SONNET: 10. TO THE LADY MARGARET LEY by JOHN MILTON THE LAMENTATION OF GLUMDALCLITCH FOR THE LOSS OF GRILDRIG by ALEXANDER POPE MARCHING (AS SEEN FROM THE LEFT FILE) by ISAAC ROSENBERG SLEEP AT SEA by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE UNSEEN WORLD by CRAVEN LANGSTROTH BETTS |